


His butler, assisted

by RoyalFunky



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Bed-Wetting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Illnesses, extremely ooc, so many plot holes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 04:54:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8043304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoyalFunky/pseuds/RoyalFunky
Summary: Ciel trips in the gardens, injures his knees, becomes ill, meets some deity and then gets better. I honestly do not know. Please keep the throwing of rotten vegetables to a minimum.





	His butler, assisted

After the Italian man’s visit, and his subsequent departure, Ciel decided he might take a walk through the Stone Garden which had been installed for the purpose. It was extremely beautiful, surrounded on all sides by a placid pond, but full of perilously sharp stones, and edged with rough-hewn rocks. He admired its beauty, a rare thing for Ciel, and admitted that his servants had done a good job to put together the garden in the time that they had had before the man’s arrival. He admired the beautiful edging stones, the sparkle in the granite showing itself off in the mid-afternoon sunshine. 

However, whilst Ciel examined and surveyed one garden, Pluto decided that he would use one of Finny’s other displays, as a toilet, instead of the woods beyond that the gardener had designated. Pluto didn’t listen though, as usual, and carried on anyway, getting himself chased through the gardens and…

SLAM. 

Ciel was on his hands and knees in the water, spitting some of it out. Finny hadn’t even stopped. The mutt needed his collar tugging, and being brought to heel. Even Ciel knew that. The force had dragged him over the sharp stones and skinned both of his knees to the point where blood was dripping down into his stocking garters and stocking tops. There was grit embedded in both of his hands, and he was absolutely soaking wet. Freezing, at this time of year. Eye watering with the pain, he set off towards the mansion, traipsing through the front entrance to Sebastian’s office on the second floor, trailing dirty water through the house. He arrived in the room, limping a little due to his knees, and looked at Sebastian with his big blue eye. 

“If you don’t control that mutt, it can go back to Houndsworth, where it belongs.” He gritted out. Sebastian stood from his desk and looked at Ciel. His bottom lip was trembling, his eye was watering, and he looked as though he was about to cry. The thought seemed to amuse him, until Ciel gave a great sniff.

“And I think I’ve caught a cold.” He said, adamantly. Sebastian merely clicked his fingers three times, and waited.

A tall lady, with resemblance to Rachel Phantomhive appeared in the room. Ciel took a step back, wishing he hadn’t. It opened his cuts anew and made his eyes spill over, in front of an apparently otherworldly being. She looked across at Sebastian, who gave her a rare smile. 

“It has been too long since Tokyo.” She murmured. 

“Indeed, my lady.” He replied. “However, there is a more pressing matter at hand. The young master.” She nodded. 

“Hello, Ciel Phantomhive.” She said. “I am the Divine Mother. I’ve come to look after you.” Ciel took another step back, hurting his knees even more. “Do not be afraid, my child. My, you certainly have been in the wars.” She murmured. She knelt in front of him, and loosened his cravat. “One so small as you does not have to pretend that he is big.” Sebastian looked at her as if to tell her to carry on, and do what she wanted, within reason, to the young master. 

She led him up the stairs, into Ciel’s private washroom. She sat him on the chair, and heated a small basin of water over the fire. 

“Let us tend to these poor skinned hands and knees first. We’ll put some tincture and bandages on them after your bath.” She said. When the water was warm, she picked up a cloth and gently began to wipe his hands down.

“What sort of a hurt is it, Ciel?” She asked him, making sure that she had all of the grit out. Ciel sniffled. He had completely let his guard down with her, and he would continue like this until he was well again. 

“They sting, mother.” He murmured. “And my knees ache where I banged them on the ground.” He said, a sniffle in his voice. “You’ll have to get Sebastian in. I don’t like it when my scraped knees are cleaned.” He said. Sebastian, however, was already there. 

“The young master scrubs his knees a lot.” He said. “Twelve year old boys with long legs tend to be very clumsy.” He said. “Usually our maid, Mey Rin performs this function while I clean his knees, but you will be far more efficient, I think.” The Mother ever so gently removed Ciel’s shoes and stockings, but his stocking garters were right over where the scrubbing started. She had to unglue them from his pale skin, where they had stuck with blood, and Ciel cried tears like he hadn’t in years for an injury. She quietened him while she cleaned, pressing a kiss to the top of each clean knee when she was finished. They still bled, but when she put tincture and bandages on them, they would stop. Sensing that she was finished, Sebastian slipped away from the room, leaving her to help him undress. He hoped that Ciel would behave himself and not throw a tantrum, as he so often did when he had hurt himself. 

The Divine Mother was as gentle as her name suggested. She helped Ciel with his buttons on his jacket, and lay it aside. She untucked his shirt, and pulled his cravat from around his neck, before unbuttoning his dress shirt and laying that aside. She slid his short trousers down from his waist, and added those to the pile. Ciel stood in his underwear, blushing as she took in the sight. A twelve year old boy, wearing bloomers like a child. Why, they even frilled out at the leg holes. 

“Would you take your drawers down for me, Ciel?” she asked. Ciel paused. It had been a long time since he had undressed in front of a woman. It may even have been in the cult, he thought to himself, and his mind wandered. He began to think of when he was finally brought there, in all his lordling finery, and some women… some women had stripped him of his clothes and his dignity. But this woman… this woman was familiar. He thought through the memory again, and looked at the faces within it. This woman! She had been there! She stood and watched, while it happened. 

Due to his distress, Ciel flashed back to when he was stripped, and caged. This woman had been there, watched whilst he was forced to soil himself and the cage floor, whilst they laughed and jeered at him. A trigger happened within Ciel, and he began to wee, soaking his bloomers through. He scrambled back as she advanced forwards, her hands in an open position to show that she did not mean harm, but Ciel slipped and fell backwards, landing on his bottom and sore palms, directly in the puddle he had created. He began to sob as he came back to the real world, sore, dirty, cold and ill. 

“Ssh…” She murmured to the distrustful boy, holding her hands out to him. “You remember me because I was always there. I was trying to protect you as Sebastian does now, but I could not risk being noticed. There were other children there, but you were so weak, so fragile. That’s why you ‘had to die’.” She said. “I prayed that someone would come for your soul quickly, or someone to save you, but Sebastian came along. It has not worked out too badly, has it, my lord?” She asked, helping him to stand and remove his wet drawers.   
When they were off, she lifted a tired, crying Ciel into the bathtub, and washed him gently, but thoroughly. 

He was dozing by the time he got lifted out of the bath, and the Mother dried him, lotioned him, and put talc where it was needed, although Ciel suggested he didn’t need it. He thought that it was for children, and he most definitely was not a child. She redressed him, pulling a pair of the muslin bloomer-style drawers up his skinny legs, avoiding his cuts, tying his ribbons for him, and then sat him down in his underwear to dress his hands and knees. She brushed tincture onto them, and tied a gauze pad to each of his knees with a bandage, padding them out thickly. His hands were similar. When she pulled the nightshirt over his head, he was swaying on his feet, and she found that she had no trouble lifting him. She carried him to his bed, and tucked him in, with a teacup of warm milk. He finished his milk quickly, being only a teacup-full, and fed him a spoonful of medicine, hoping to ward off the cold he thought he was acquiring.

But she was wrong, and too optimistic. She and Sebastian sat in the adjacent sitting room, drinking tea and reminiscing of old times. Sebastian was often called forth to help children such as Ciel, and each child had a Divine Mother, helping them along in their life. It was her who helped these wretched children to be brave enough to endure vaccinations to their bottoms, to take their castor oil and other medicines with the grace and patience of a saint. Even Ciel did not put up a fight, although he did protest to Sebastian being in the room when the castor oil performed its original function.   
There was a loud ‘THUMP’ next door, and both ran in to see what had happened. Ciel had tumbled out of bed, determined to get across his room to where his washstand stood. The Phantomhive Mansion had one or two flush toilets, but they were for guests, and Ciel wasn’t entirely sure he liked them anyway. Next to his washstand stood a closestool, Ciel’s personal chamberpot. He hid behind a screen to use it, but he hadn’t even got that far. His bed was mostly wet, and in his dizzy state, he had fallen, and continued to wet his drawers. 

“Seb…Sebastian…” He murmured into the floor. He seemed to have stopped going, so the Mother walked over to him, avoiding the small puddle on the floor. She pulled his nightshirt up and his bloomers down to his ankles, although in the time it took to undo his ribbons, he was almost finished, but she continued, sitting him atop the plush padding of the stool. Ciel’s cheeks were bright red, and he looked extremely embarrassed. He closed his legs, which he did only sometimes with Sebastian, now, and bowed his head. He was blushing bright red, to the tips of his ears. Sebastian was stood just out of the way, but he walked over to them, and touched the mother on the arm. 

“Please, my lady. Come next door. The young master has troubles sometimes, it may be better if we just leave him to call out when he is finished.” She shook her head.

“No. He is too ill, Sebastian. He can barely think. He might try to go back to bed, and he’d trip.” Sebastian nodded. Tears ran down Ciel’s face as he finally started to go. He was awake, and aware of exactly what he’d done. There were puddles spanning from his bedclothes to his bedroom floor, and drips across where he’d been carried. He was so upset with himself that he used his hands to cover his eyes, not wanting Sebastian or the Divine Mother to see his blush or his tears. 

When he was finished, the butler had changed his bedsheets so that they were dry and clean, and the bed was warm when he was to settle into it. A clean nightshirt warmed near the fire whilst everything was cleaned, including Ciel himself. The Mother changed his knee bandages as he had reopened the cuts with his tumble, and kissed each one gently. She laid him on the bed, and since he was now extremely out of it, he dozed on the bed whilst she put terrycloths around his waist and followed them with a pair of plastic underwear similar to the bloomers he usually wore. He was ready for any eventuality, and since he was extremely ill now, he would probably use them in his sleep. She took his temperature, and gasped at the result. 

“You are definitely staying in bed tomorrow.” She murmured, stroking his slate-coloured hair. “Poor boy. So weak… A mother’s worst nightmare and best scenario. A boy too weak to pull away from her, yet too weak to help himself.” She soothed him to sleep, his lashes contrasting on his pale skin, fluttering gently as he drifted off to sleep.

A weak and pained Ciel awoke the next morning. He turned down Sebastian’s offer of a fine breakfast, and made disgruntled noises at the sound of every food.

“The young master is grumpy this morning.” He said. The Mother sighed. 

“The young master is ill this morning, please treat him with a little lenience.” She retorted. “Isn’t that right, sweetling?” she asked. Ciel turned to face her, his blue eye youthful in its sickness. 

“Mother…” he murmured. “Mother, my tummy isn’t good.” He said. “I feel sickly.” 

“Oh sweetling…” she murmured. “We might be having a few trips to the closestool then, might we?” Ciel whined. He didn’t want that function talked about. It was embarrassing, especially in front of Sebastian. She turned to the butler. 

“Bring the young master dry toast and a bland tea. He needs some food in him.” She instructed, before turning her attentions back to Ciel’s fringe. She combed it down and then pushed it out of his eyes, before stroking a crooked finger down his cheek in a soothing manner. While the butler was gone, she pushed the bedclothes down and Ciel’s nightshirt up, and changed the nappy covering his lower half. She anticipated it might have been used in the night, and it had been.

When Sebastian returned with the promised food, she coaxed it into him gently, taking a while to get even a tiny bite of the bread into his tummy. He did finish his meal, but he laid down immediately afterward, trying to ward off the sickly feeling that had overtaken his body. He tried the foetal position, quite improper for a young earl, he tried laying on his back, his stomach, everything. 

Eventually, he could hold it in no longer, and an hour or so later, he began to vomit into a basin. The spasms overtaking his body were so strong, that he began to wet, and the humiliation, combined with the sickness and him being overtired, meant that he began to sob his little heart out. The Mother could do nothing but hold Ciel whilst his vomiting stopped, and wipe his mouth after each expulsion. When he motioned for the basin to be taken away from him, she dried his tears, although the continued to fall, changed his cloths, since his convulsing had caused him to wet, and tucked him back into bed. 

After a little comforting, he fell asleep with his head on her skirts, the petticoats underneath them providing a wonderful cushion. Not as soft as his goose-feather pillow, but it had the satisfying warmth of being ‘human’. She dried the tear tracks on his face with a wet cloth, and laid the same wet cloth over his forehead to try to cool the fever making him weak. He appeared to have cried himself out as he had done the night before.   
Ciel fell asleep for a long time after this incident, napping for about 3 or so hours, his body fighting the fever with sleep and helping him to recover more quickly. When he opened his eyes, his vision was hazy and his head swam when he tried to sit up. He lay back down again quite quickly. Even pushing himself up on his elbows wasn’t an option, his body was too weak to do even that. The Divine Mother and the demon were sat next door, discussing their meeting again. 

When a child died, if he was under 5, an angel would take him directly to heaven, his suffering eased and his ailments gone. If he were over 5 but under 10, he would be given the choice between the Divine Mother and the angel. If he chose the Divine Mother, he would recover to as near as possible to full health. That Mother would look after him until he turned 18. If he chose the angel, he would be taken to heaven in a similar fashion to an infant. Those who chose the angel had generally suffered greatly in their young lives and were tired of being ill. Children were taught that Eden, the garden in heaven, was for them to play in, with no ailments, no illnesses, no deformities. The angel would take their soul to heaven, and they would re-join their body, to live happily ever after. 

If a child was under 15, they had a choice between a demon, a mother, and an angel. These children were generally old enough to decide whether they needed vengeance over their death, or the deaths of others, and could therefore choose the demon if they wanted to avenge them. They were, of course, given the choice of a mother, if they were ill, who would care for them, and they would be brought back to life. They were also old enough to choose whether they had suffered enough in life, and if they had, they could choose the angel, who would take them to heaven, and that would be the end of that. There were some discrepancies in Ciel’s case. Ciel had never been offered the choice of an angel, there had been no scope for one to enter the space in which the cult were practicing, as they would have gotten themselves hurt. The Divine Mother had failed to do her job, and his final choice was the demon, with whom he forged his Faustian contract, and named him Sebastian. 

Sebastian had had to report the Divine Mother, and as a result had chased her all over the world – while his master was asleep no less, until he caught up with her in Tokyo. She was sent back to her world for her disciplinary action, but was found that she had done everything that she could. She was allowed to continue to look after Ciel. Apparently, though, she had enjoyed the chase as much as Sebastian himself. The demon, its archetype and style, was a prey hunter, and as much as he loved to eat souls, he very much enjoyed chasing down his prey. Ciel unsettled him, sometimes. He was willing to honour his contract, he was willing to give up his humanity, because he had nothing left. There would be no chase.

“Se – Sebastian…” He murmured, barely more than a whisper. Both were in the room in a flash. He called for his butler, as he was not used to calling for a mother figure. The butler picked him up, his bedlinen and nightshirt sweaty. “Nn…” He mumbled. “Nn… p’t me down…” he told him. “Put me down. I’m sore, I’m tired, and I’m sickly. Have respect.” He muttered. Sebastian merely passed him over the bed to the Mother who took him into the warm washroom, where a bath and a clean nightgown awaited him. She undressed him, placing the used nappy into a washing pail to wash later. Ciel whined throughout his bath, not wanting to move at all. It took both the Mother, and Sebastian when he had finished changing the linens, to give him his bath. 

His bath finally finished, Sebastian lifted him from the tub, wrapping him in a towel. She pulled a nightgown over his head, and fastened the half strip of buttons quickly, before tying the ribbon at the neckline in a nice neat bow, and then leading him back to bed with an arm around his back, then settling him into bed. Both she and the butler helped him to sit up in bed so he might have a few sips of water and eat a few water biscuits. When he’d eaten those, he thought he felt a little bit better. His vision was not so bad, and although he felt a little weak, he asked to be taken to his study. The mother rolled stockings up his legs, and fastened them in place with garters, and the butler carried him to the study, the woman following behind with a woollen blanket.

Sebastian settled him in the comfiest chair, where Ciel immediately tucked his legs under himself, and allowed the blanket to be wrapped around him. He was given his first letter, but the flowing copperplate made his head hurt, and was impossible to read in this state. He tried a different activity, one which he actually enjoyed, which was chess. However, chess made Ciel’s head ache, even more so than the letter reading. He was in no mood for strategic planning and Sebastian beat him within 5 minutes of the game’s start. He went limp against the chair, letting out a frustrated sigh. He hated being ill. Being ill made it impossible for one to do anything. 

“Do you see now, child?” the mother asked, kindly. “You are too ill. Let us take you back to bed. You can lay down and your head won’t be so dizzy.” She said. Ciel nodded, and let them pick him up, blanket and all, so he looked like a swaddled child, his thin, grey stockinged toes sticking out of the end of the blanket. When he was laid down on the bed he looked much younger than he really was. His nightgown reached his mid thighs, and below that were his bandaged knees, looking worse than they really were, with thick gauze pads strapped to them with crepe bandages. His stocking garters were below that, denoting how young he really was. Only children wore short trousers and stockings, something that Ciel was painfully aware of, however, most people in his inner circle agreed that it would look strange if he began to dress like an adult. The mother removed his stocking garters, laying them aside for Sebastian to put away. Her hands went to his stocking tops, but he stopped her. 

“No. My feet are cold, mother.” He whined. The mother sighed, feeling a little of a fight coming on. 

“Ciel… You cannot wear your long stockings to bed. You’ll be too warm, especially with your fever. Besides, your feet will soon warm up.” She told him. He protested a second time. He would have to do something about his study, it was always cold, even with the fire lit and the windows shut.

“Fine. Bring me a pair of short stockings. I can remove them if I get too hot, can’t I?” he asked, a hint of annoyance clouding his voice. She nodded. Sebastian was stood behind her, as she rolled his long stockings down, and she passed him the discarded socks, before Sebastian gave her a pair of the young master’s white ankle socks. When she was finished, she laid his legs back on the bed, and put a hand behind his back to support   
him as he laid down. He laid down gently on the soft pillows, and shut his eyes. 

“I suppose this would be the point where most children would ask for one of those mundane stories.” He said. The mother narrowed her eyes. 

“Mundane?” She asked. “Ciel, what are you asking for?” She said. Ciel still had his eyes shut, and his face was devoid of emotion, as usual.   
Sebastian appeared beside her, holding a beautifully bound book of fairy tales. 

“The master means a fairy tale. This is the book I found under his bed.” Ciel opened his eyes and looked up at Sebastian indignantly. “I imagine he reads them to feel better sometimes.”   
The mother giggled.

“Ah, Ciel. If you were asking me to read you a bedtime story, I would not have declined.” Ciel was red in the face. 

“I do not read them…” He said indignantly. “Well… Not often anyway.”   
The mother sat down on the bed, resting the book on her knee so Ciel could see the illustrations if he wanted to.

“Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived a king and a queen…” She began, having chosen Sleeping Beauty as tonight’s story. Ciel’s head rested on her upper thigh, looking at the pictures, and occasionally reaching out to touch them. While he was concentrating on the book, Sebastian slipped a thermometer under his tongue, and fluffed his pillow for when he fell asleep. He slipped a hand gently under Ciel’s nightgown and checked the nappy for signs of wetness, and when he found some, he even managed to change Ciel without any protest, wiping him down with a warm, wet cloth, and powdering and lotioning his groin area. He felt his back, and decided that the nightgown was not soaked through with sweat and therefore he was able to stay in it. He still had a fever though, and this was confirmed by the thermometer. He took it out of his mouth, shaking his head. Ciel hadn’t quite noticed that any of this was going on, far too engrossed in his book, and the beautiful sound of the mother’s voice lulling him off to sleep. He fell asleep before the princess even pricked her finger, his hand sprawled out against the mother’s skirt, nuzzling his cheek against the soft material. She stroked his soft hair gently, ran a crooked forefinger down his face, and lay him back against the goose-feather pillow. He stayed asleep, his fever tiring him. 

The butler and the Divine Mother had retreated to the room next door, and used their time to discuss the supernatural goings-on that had happened in London recently. The Divine Mother claimed she only knew bits here and there, heard at children’s bedroom doors, whispers on the wind, which meant that she could not place a value on their truth. This fraught conversation was broken by the frantic calling of ‘Mother! Mother! Please… Mother!’ from the next room, followed by an unsuccessful dry retch. Ciel called out again, and this time awoke, and the heave was, this time, as far from unsuccessful as it was possible to get. The pair walked into Ciel’s room, and Sebastian lit a candle, just the one, enough to see what they were doing. 

Ciel was covered in vomit. His hair, his nightgown, his bedlinens, everything. And he was sobbing. He hated being so very ill, and here he was, sat in bed, one of his beautiful nightgowns from Alois (which he had taken a liking to, despite the thinly veiled hatred for the boy), soiled and disgusting, his hair wet with the stuff, a pool of it in his lap. His fever caused fiercely upsetting dreams, and he could not even cover his eyes with his hands, as he had unsuccessfully tried to cover his mouth with them instead, and now they were dirty.

The mother went to wrap an arm around his shoulder whilst Sebastian folded the covers back to take them to the laundry, both of the divine beings knowing exactly where they should be. 

“Bocchan?” She asked, gently. “Bocchan, could I move you to the washroom, or are you going to be ill again?” She said. Ciel was still crying.

“Th- The wa- washroom…” He sniffled. “I’ve soiled the entire nightgown now! Bile never comes out!” He said, angrily. 

“Let’s get you into the washroom, and I’ll see what I can do about this nightgown of yours.” She said, lifting him into her arms and carrying him into the washroom, where Sebastian had already drawn a warm bath. “Ah, here we are. We’ll get you all nice and clean again, hmm?” she asked. 

She untied the ribbon at the neckline, and unbuttoned the half-strip, slipping it down Ciel’s shoulders. 

“You think it’s immature, don’t you?” he mumbled, looking at the blue fabric piled around his ankles. “A boy of my age wearing frilly underwear and a lacy nightgown to bed?” The woman smiled. 

“On the contrary, I think it is exactly what young boys your age should wear. The nightshirt your butler presented me with last night drowned you, and made you look like you were trying to be something you’re not. You choose beautiful nightgowns, in lovely colours, which show off the colour of your skin and eyes. And you would be surprised how many noble boys still have frills on their drawers when they’re nearly men grown.” She said. “So I think, like everything, you make educated choices about what you wear for bed, something that whomever you sleep with in the future will understand, and hopefully enjoy to its full potential.” Ciel looked at her, shame showing clearly.

“I didn’t choose it.” He said, eyes downcast. “And I hate the person that did. I want to kill him.” He told her. “But I enjoy the feel of it, and the colours are nice.”

She unpinned the nappy, and put it into the washing basket, before lifting Ciel under the armpits and putting him in the warm bath. His head was spinning with illness, and it showed in how he lay his head back against the ceramic tub. Again, it took both of them to wash him. When they had cleaned his hair, and made sure to remove any traces of vomit from his hands, the mother went over to the cabinet where she had put the previously soiled nightgown. Sebastian had left the room for only a second, but here it was, clean, dry, and smelling of roses. The butler had lifted him from the bath and wrapped a towel around him, beginning to dry him off. He was still a little sniffly, but he cheered up when he saw the nightgown, which was now stain free. 

“We supernatural beings have a few tricks up our sleeves.” Sebastian told him. He put it on him, and buttoned up the chest panel, tying a beautiful bow in the front to complete the look. The mother rucked up the nightgown when he was laid on the bed, making him blush, and fastened a nappy onto him, making sure he was fully dressed for a long night’s sleep. Both divine beings sat either side of him, each holding a hand, and singing a lullaby to rival any biological mother. Ciel was surprised at Sebastian’s singing voice, but it complimented the mother’s beautifully, and he thought that perhaps he was doing it on purpose.

He slept late the next morning, tired out from his night time upset. He had cried until he got in the bath, and he was still upset with himself when he went to sleep. But all that crying had caused a headache, and poor Ciel was paying for it when he woke up.   
The mother changed his nightgown to a nightshirt when he was awake, not stating why, but Ciel thought that there must be visitors arriving.

“If it is Lizzie…” he murmured to her, “If it is Lizzie, find one of the other nightgowns, perhaps the purple one. She is always looking for me to be ‘adorable’, and perhaps I can give her some pleasure from coming to see me from that.” The mother nodded.  
“I shall have to jostle you a little more, Ciel, but I will soon be done.” She said, pulling the nightshirt off, and swapping it for a nightgown which was purple in colour, the bodice and skirt lilac, and the ribbon and buttons the same colour as Alois’ long-collared overcoat. When she had finished on his nightgown, she replaced the terrycloth nappy that she had removed earlier, pinning it firmly in place. She pulled the sheets up to the base of Ciel’s ribcage, as he had been propped up in bed on pillows. She wrapped a sleeping shawl around his shoulders, and pulled her chair a little closer to the bed, watching over him.

“Would you like some toast and tea, young master?” Sebastian inquired in a quiet tone. He would never wish Ciel pleasure, but he certainly did not want to make him uncomfortable. It would only delay his ultimate achievement, Ciel’s soul. Ciel nodded hesitantly at his request, and closed his eyes again. He couldn’t sleep, but the light was far too bright for one so ill as him to keep his eyes open. 

Sebastian brought him his toast, and poured him a cup of tea while he nibbled on it, the mother holding the plate for him. He finished the toast, sipping on his tea, and let the mother tie his eyepatch over his Faustian contract symbol. If Lizzie was coming over, she didn’t need to see his eye. He no longer felt sickly, and was able to manage the toast and tea without incident, having a second cup, even. However, he was tired, from the previous two nights that he had had with broken sleep. His uncovered eye dropped shut occasionally, his head nodding. The mother lay him down in bed, sensing that sitting up was only hurting his head more. She reached under the sheets and smoothed his nightgown down before letting him drop off to sleep before Lizzie arrived. He would need all of his energy to deal with her. 

Her arrival was announced by the front doors being thrown wide open, followed by Lizzie’s heeled shoes clacking on the marble foyer floor. Sebastian had hoped that the young master would be up to a visit from Elizabeth by now, but since he could barely lift his head from the pillow with dizziness, he decided he might have to intervene before Elizabeth got near his master’s bedroom, annoyed him, and put him in an even worse mood than he had been before. Using his superhuman speed, he appeared at the top of the left set of stairs on the grand staircase, where she ran up to him.

“Lady Elizabeth, I regret to inform you that the young master has taken ill. However, he did not want to disappoint you when your visit was prearranged, so he will see you for a little while if you are quiet and gentle with him. He did put on one of his special nightgowns in an attempt to look ‘adorable’, as you are always imploring him to be.” 

Elizabeth gasped. Ciel was a weak child, and there had been times when visits to the Phantomhive manor had had to be cancelled due to Ciel having a sickness of some kind. The fact that Ciel was pushing his illness aside for her flattered her greatly, and she promised Sebastian that she would be quiet and gentle, and allowed the butler to lead her to Ciel’s bedroom. It was rare that Elizabeth came in here, she usually went directly to Ciel’s study, but it made her hesitant. She approached the doorway, and stood there, wavering for a second. There was a woman giving Ciel a drink from a cut-crystal glass. He had his hand on the glass, but Lizzie could tell that the lady was doing most of the work. Ciel looked thinner and paler than usual. The mother turned her attention to Lizzie.

“Come in, child. You won’t hurt him with your presence.” She addressed her, bidding her to sit down on the chair on the opposite side. “Do you know how to look after a young man when he is as ill as Ciel is?” She asked. Lizzie shook her head, and just at that moment, Ciel’s asthma decided to flare up as he choked a little on the water he was drinking. The woman put the glass down, and brought Ciel to her chest, his head over her shoulder as he coughed. He groaned when he was finished, and she lay him back down.

“Firstly, when Ciel’s asthma flares up…” Sebastian said from the doorway. “You must support him while he coughs.” Lizzie jumped. She hadn’t been expecting the butler to come back so soon, as Ciel appeared to have a nurse, but she supposed that you hardly ever saw one without the other. 

“Pull him into your chest, as I have just done, with his head over your shoulder, and rub his back gently to encourage his breathing to get better, and anything he is choking on to remove itself from his windpipe.” The mother chipped in. Ciel smiled at her gently.  
“Please, Nurse. No medical talk. It might upset the lady, and I can’t have that.” He said, charmingly, although his voice was a little weak. Elizabeth blushed, and smiled at Ciel. 

“It won’t upset me, Ciel…” she murmured. “I have to know, don’t I? If we’re to be married… I can’t have a nurse rushing in every two minutes to take care of something simple like your asthma, when I can help you myself.” Ciel took her hand, and looked up at her fondly, something that she took great pride in. She had said the right thing. She hadn’t made him cringe away, and she hadn’t upset him. 

For the rest of the day, Ciel was essentially used as a test. Elizabeth learnt very quickly how to take his temperature, to mop his forehead, and to help him to sit up. He was currently laid down, a damp flannel over his forehead, eyes shut, and Lizzie holding his hand. She had been taught to be very gentle with him, and her dainty hands were perfect for the work that she needed to perform to keep him comfortable.

“Perhaps you’d like to read to him?” The mother said, smiling, as Lizzie stroked his hand with a thumb. Lizzie looked up, and smiled across at the mother.

“I’d love to… But I’m not sure I’d understand all of the words in the big reports Ciel usually reads.” She blushed. Ciel opened his eyes.

“No, I’d never expect you to read those.” He murmured. “I’m sure I don’t understand them half the time. Tanaka has to translate some of the words so that I can understand them. Perhaps we have a copy of The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett.” He said. “I used to like that one when I was younger.”

Elizabeth read the book until Ciel’s eyes began to drop shut. He had been propped up to drink a teacup full of milk with honey before his nap, and to nibble on a half of a scone, his gorgeous cashmere sleep shawl wrapped around his shoulders. His fiancée closed the book and placed it on Ciel’s nightstand, and took one of his hands in both of hers.   
“I think it might be time for you to take a nap, Ciel…” She murmured, hoping it wasn’t the wrong thing to say. Ciel initially looked startled, starting off defensively.

“Wha-? No, I… Maybe you’re right…” He replied, ending off his sentence with a large yawn.   
“Would you like to keep your shawl on, or is it too warm?” she asked, wringing the cloth out, and mopping his brow, neck, and uncovered skin above his nightgown.

“I am certain I still have a fever, so it would probably best if I remove it. Perhaps you should check my temperature before I sleep.” He suggested. He enjoyed Elizabeth’s company when she was like this, the quiet nature of her making her better to deal with. She was being ever so gentle too, pinching the thermometer between thumb and forefinger so that she could accurately place it underneath Ciel’s tongue without hurting him. Of course, Ciel was aiding her by staying very still, but she was still being gentle with him. She placed two fingertips on the underneath of Ciel’s chin, holding his mouth closed, as her other hand held the thermometer. She pulled the thermometer out after a few minutes.   
“Yes, you do have a fever.” She murmured. “Are you going to lay down now, or will you lie down when I’ve gone?” She asked. Ciel agreed to the second option. 

“There are a few things I need to take care of before I go to sleep.” He assured her. “But I will lie down and sleep. I promise.” Ciel took her hand and pressed it to his lips. “I will see you when I am out of bed.” He smiled, using her hand as leverage to swing his legs from bed, and walked her to the top of the second flight of stairs, albeit slowly. Pressing a second kiss to her hand, he let her descend down the stairs. The great Earl Phantomhive was now just a charcoal-haired boy in a short nightie and a nappy, with his skinned knees bound in bandages. And there he stood at the top of the stairs, wavering on his toes as he waved to his fiancée. A thin slip of a twelve year old, not yet lost his childishness, but as strong a head of house as his father was. 

The mother came to his side, and led him back to his bedchamber. The other servants did not usually see Ciel in his nightclothes, and he had no desire to let them, so he let himself be guided back to bed, changed, and tucked under the covers. The mother pulled the bedclothes up to his chin, and he fell asleep instantly. He couldn’t even tell you that he loved Lizzie yet, he enjoyed her company, of course, but she was a tiresome person at times, and with Ciel as ill as he was, it was not wise to be around Elizabeth so much. The mother set about cleaning the bedroom, making sure that everything was back to rights for Ciel waking up. It didn’t take much, but for every successful attempt Lizzie had made, there had been at least three unsuccessful attempts, and there was a lot of linen and crockery to be removed. 

Ciel awoke a few hours later, and stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, his eyes able to focus on the murals decorating his ceiling. His brain felt less addled, his mind clearer and his thinking sharper. However, he had had no concept of time for the past couple of days, his mind lost to the wooziness of fever. Sebastian entered the room to check on the boy, and he saw his big eyes were wide open, staring up at him as he walked across the room. 

“Sebastian…” Ciel murmured. “Sebastian, open the curtains a little. My eyes are unfocused.” He told him.

“I could, Bocchan, however, you wouldn’t benefit. It happens to be nine o’clock in the evening, and quite dark outside.” He told him. “Perhaps I might light the candelabra, and put it across the room, so there is light, but it does not blind your eyes?” Sebastian suggested. Ciel was still in a state where he would take Sebastian’s suggestions into account, but he grumbled a little about doing so. When the candelabra was lit, Ciel found his head even clearer, and he was even able to concentrate on the little figures on the mural. Each figure had been reproduced in the exact style of the last mansion by Sebastian, a small touch which Ciel found comfort in. 

When he had finished tending to the master’s immediate needs, he left the room with the dirty linens, and the Divine Mother entered the room. Sebastian was gone only a second before he came back, linking a hand with the Mother’s and helping Ciel to sit up before propping him up with pillows. Ciel looked far healthier, and although he was still pale in the candlelight, he had lost the fevered blush from his chest. The young master was a gentle and kind soul at heart, and he took well to being fed when ill, so the Mother fed him a bowl of chicken soup, something thin, but with a little texture to give him the confidence to try something a little more solid. He nibbled on a few crackers, the crunchy texture the most solid thing he had eaten in a few days. When the savoury was finished, Sebastian produced his favourite ever pudding, strawberry jelly and custard. He was fed that too. Sebastian usually fed him it, as Ciel was likely to drop it off the spoon and disgrace himself. Resting against the pillows whilst drinking a cup of tea, the Earl gave a large yawn. The mother doted on his cute face, and cooed him to sleep.

“Such poorly young boys need their sleep, young one.” She coaxed, kissing his forehead after he gave the great yawn, his delicate free hand covering his mouth. He passed her his teacup and reclined, his eyes closing. Sebastian took the pillows out from underneath his back, and Ciel lay flat on the bed once more. His head hurt him, now. The mother changed his nightgown to a nightshirt as this was generally how Ciel felt more comfortable while asleep. She changed his nappy so it was clean and then went to blow the candle out. Ciel stopped her.

"Please. Leave it while I sleep." He said. "I've been trapped in the darkness by my mind for the last few days. I'm tired of not being able to see." He told her, laying back down. She set the candle back down on the table and sat back down in her seat. The candlestick took some effort to lift. She sat and stroked his forehead, brushing the strands of silky charcoal hair away from his head. Ciel fell asleep quickly, his fever making him weak still. The mother hoped it would break in the night. 

Sebastian came to the room later to clear away the crockery, and then sat with the mother in the sitting room adjoining Ciel's bedroom.

"He is almost recovered..." Sebastian said, with an almost imperceptible glance towards the door that only the other divine being would catch. 

"He is. His fever may break in the night. But even if it doesn't, he should be strong enough to get out of bed and wear his normal clothes." She reported. 

"Drawers included?" Sebastian asked, a chuckle underpinning his tone. The Divine Mother sighed at the demon's amusement at his master's misfortune.

"Drawers included, Sebastian. It is impolite to laugh at humans. They may be a little stupid and a lot fragile, but they bind our wills, and it would be most unfortunate if the young master ordered one of us to scrub the stables using a toothbrush in a fit of childish temper." She said. Sebastian would usually refuse to bow his head to such a woman, but his impudence had been shamed by her, and he had all but ruined his aesthetic in her company, so he conceded. He hung his head.

"You are right, of course." He said. "However, the master is not prone to fits of childish temper, but he is likely to express his disgust in a fit of sadistic rage." 

However, Ciel was not quite up to any feelings of rage or temper, instead preferring to hunker down in bed and submit to being tended to. It was not a bad feeling, he supposed. He tried not to pay any mind to the surely mounting pile of paperwork on his desk in his study, and napped on and off. His head was dizzy until just after lunchtime, when he finished his morning nap, and the mother was waiting with a thermometer and clean linen.  
She checked his temperature, and smiled when she found that it had come down to a normal level. Then, she changed his soaked nappy, making sure he was clean and fresh, and then his nightshirt. He had an endless supply of the things, and it was a good job, as he quite often sweated his way through one in a matter of hours. However, after a sponge bath and a clean shirt, he seemed far less sweaty than usual. 

There was always something unusual about the way the mother worked. She was quiet, talking to Ciel only about his recovery, to ask for his permission, and to gain extra information. Sebastian usually talked about the day ahead while he dressed him, his voice only slowing on the fiddly bits, such as Ciel's stocking garters.

"We have to clean your hands and knees now, sweetling." She said, kneeling beside the bed, where Ciel was sat with his knees hanging off the edge, huge bandages exposed below the hem of the nightshirt. She untied the bows behind his knees, and undid the crepe bandages, then gently peeled the gauze away from the wound. It had healed nicely, and when any excess plasma had been wiped away with a gentle, warm cloth, they looked even neater. She stretched and bent Ciel's knees a little to elasticate the scabs, so that he could move properly, and rebandaged them a little more lightly. She did something similar for his hands. Everything was nicely healed. 

When he had finished having his wounds cleaned and dressed, Sebastian brought Ciel his lunch, a bowl of broth, some soft, fluffy white bread, thickly spread with butter, and as a treat, a lemon square. Ciel managed to eat his meal like the lordling he was, and looking as regal as ever. The Mother sat by the bed, her pride in Ciel reaching her face in a smile. 

After Sebastian took the tray away, he began to shift on the bed, a blush creeping up his face. He did not want to use the nappy now he was feeling better, and since both divine beings were out of the room, he slipped out of bed, going behind the screen where his washstand and closestool were. Now he just had to figure out how to get his new drawers off. He removed the safety pin, and it dropped to the floor. Ciel knew he would not be able to get it back on again, but he supposed he didn't mind. He didn't really want to wear it again. He went over to the stool and sank onto its velvet-cushioned top, before doing what he had come to do. The mother snuck into the room while Ciel was behind the screen, her powers allowing her to become silence itself. She waited by the bed for when he was finished, and surprised Ciel as he tried to sneak back to bed, nappy in hand, to figure out what the hell to do with the thing. The mother put it back on for him. Perhaps Ciel didn't care for the aesthetic of the nappy, but he couldn't deny that it was comfortable to wear. He fell asleep very quickly for his final nap of the day, wrapping himself in the covers.

Later, when Ciel awoke, he ate another meal similar to the one he had had for lunch. Sebastian could tell that the young man was getting extremely bored with bland food and bed, and the Divine Mother would be leaving tomorrow. Such flighty and troublesome things they were. Took you half a night to track down but could appear at three clicks of your fingers. No consistency either. At least when a demon took an aesthetic he kept it until the contract was done. Mothers could be sicknurses, governesses, tutors, pose as biological mothers, and this could change, dependent on the time and place. Sebastian was Ciel's butler, and as he was a minor, it meant looking after his education and taking care of him. He didn't ever pose as Vincent Phantomhive or his replacement, and he would not have wished to. Stuffy society did not interest him.

As the end of the day approached, the Mother lifted him from bed, feeling him go limp after a moment of periodic tension in his muscles. He was pretending. She took him into the bathroom and gave him a wash, washing any sweat from his body and then changed his drawers back to his usual ribbon-tied muslin ones. With a neat bow tied on the waistband, she let the nightshirt drop to its usual position on his midthighs, and then walked back to the bedroom, her hand in his. He walked slowly, as though he was still weak, but the Mother, and Sebastian too, knew otherwise. She lay him down in bed, and tucked him in, pulling the covers up to his chin.

"This will be my last night, Ciel." She murmured. "You are already recovered, and it is time for me to go." Ciel looked at her, shock written into the features of his face. 

"No! You can't go, not yet! I... I still have a fever!" He said, pressing her hand to his forehead. "See?" The mother smiled. For someone so young, and so alone, her presence was a comfort to Ciel, she could tell.

"Ciel... You will be fully recovered in the morning, and I can assure you, wholly, that your fever has long since disappeared." She told him, firmly, but in a gentle tone.

"B-but... But... I need you!" He said, his eyes leaking big fat tears, looking rather upset. The mother took her handkerchief and wiped his eyes, shushing him gently as she did so.

"Come, Ciel. Dry your eyes. There should be no tears at bedtime. You'll only keep yourself awake longer, and you'll undo all of that good work that you've done to recover." She said, drying his eyes. 

"Will you come back?" He asked, his eyes flickering up to meet hers. She nodded.

"I will be here whenever you need me. Click your fingers three times, and I shall appear." She said, and then continued with a smirk. "And don't forget to keep that demon of yours in check. They are lustful, prideful things, and need a firm hand." She told him. Ciel nodded and buried himself inside the covers, falling asleep in minutes. She set the room to rights, before going next door where Sebastian had been listening to their exchange.

"Forgive my master his digression of character. Usually he does not whine so, but today he has been bored in bed. I fear he may have also have been feeling a little childish due to his illness. I sometimes see it whenever he has an asthma attack." He told her. She nodded. 

"But he is better now." She told him. "He will need to be washed and dressed in the usual way in the morning, and then I will leave. Please leave a set of casual day clothes out for me to dress him in." She said. Sebastian nodded, and seemed to know what she needed. He led her to a bedroom where a hot supper and a comfortable bed awaited her, and then the butler left her alone. 

She ate the meal, and undressed for bed, falling asleep quickly. Looking after children took a lot of energy out of her. 

However, she was awake again before Ciel awoke, and she walked in as Sebastian handed him his newly ironed paper, and wrapped a shawl around his shoulders. She sat while he ate his breakfast, and then waited in the bedroom whilst he was in the washroom and behind the screen. Then, when he was done, he came and stood shyly before her, fiddling with his shirt cuffs. Sebastian seemed to do his cuff buttons with ease, but Ciel always had trouble, even undoing them. His outfit, including undergarments, hung beside them on the wardrobe. 

She unbuttoned the nightshirt, letting it fall away, and set it aside. She untied his drawers, and exchanged them for a clean pair. She put his dress shirt on, closing each button gently, and working even more gently still to close the top buttons. Then came his short trousers and braces. She pulled the short trousers up and tucked his shirt in. They were a lovely navy blue, and complimented his eyes, she told him. She fastened his braces on, and made sure everything was present and correct, before putting his stockings on for him. She then clipped his stocking garters on, and slipped his shoes on. The final touch was a ribbon around the neck, a black one today. She tied his eyepatch on, and he smiled. Sebastian dressed him, but not with the level of care that she took over him. 

When she had finished attentively dressing him, he led her down to the front door. 

"Do you promise to come back?" He asked. She nodded. 

"I promise, Ciel.” She told him, and then turned, walking to her carriage. “I promise.”

"Good-bye!" He said, more loudly and more enthusiastically than he usually would. "Have a safe journey!"

The mother smiled, waved, and the carriage set off down the lane, and disappeared out of sight. 

Ciel sighed. Now he had to be an adult. 

"Sebastian! I'll take tea in my study. I have plenty of paperwork to go over." 

Sebastian smiled.

"Yes, my lord."


End file.
